Page 14 of Lords of Ruin: Savage

“Comment puis-je….umm, me rendre au Louvre?” Willow carefully pronounces each syllable to mimic the French accent as best she can.

“I think that’s very convincing. Are we already in Paris?”

“Shut up, Vincent.” she murmurs with a smile as she buries her head into my chest.

“I’m for real, everyone knows that French is all about attitude, and I think you have that down.”

Her bright eyes glimmer in the dim lighting as she takes a moment to look at my face before leaning in and swiftly nibbling on my collarbone, sending a jolt through my nervous system as I gently shake her off.

“Hey, I’m serious,” I retort, “It’s much better than mine.”

She begins twirling her finger around my chest. “Oh yeah? Show me.”

“Je suis Vincent. Uh…enchanté.” The words stumble out of my mouth. I cringe, feeling the pressure of my own ineptitude. How can I sound so bad?

Willow’s laughter starts soft, a little giggle that escapes her lips before she clamps a hand over her mouth. But then it grows, spiraling out of control until she’s rolling on the bed, clutching her stomach.

“Holy shit!” she gasps between breaths, “How much have you been practicing?”

I groan, running a hand through my hair. “Look, we still have plenty of time until Paris. Plus, I have you… and you’re already perfect.”

She mock punches my arm, her laughter finally subsiding into a soft chuckle. “Ha ha,” she says, resting her head on my chest, “Very funny.”

We’re nestled together under the covers, her body warm against mine. My arm is draped over her shoulder, our legs tangled in a way that feels as natural as breathing. Her arms wrap around my torso, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on my skin. The scent of her hair fills the air, floral and sweet, like a garden in full bloom.

I could stay like this forever.

But then she shifts, propping herself up on one elbow to look at me. There’s a small grin playing on her lips, and a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“You know…” she begins, “I may have a way to help you practice a bit faster.”

I raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? And what’s that?”

Her grin widens, and she leans in closer, her breath warm against my ear. “Let’s just say… I’ll make it worth your while.”

Her hand trails down my chest, her fingers lightly brushing over my skin, sending shivers down my spine. I can feel my body responding to her touch, the heat between us growing with every passing second.

“Willow…” I whisper, my voice hoarse with desire.

She pulls back slightly, just enough to meet my gaze. Her eyes are dark with want, her lips parted in anticipation. “Vincent,” she murmurs, “Say anything in French.”

I blink, caught off guard. “What?”

She grins, her hand continuing its exploration of my body. “You heard me. Say anything in French. If you get it right… I’ll reward you.”

“Uh…” I stammer, struggling to form a coherent sentence. “Je… je t’aime?”

Willow’s eyes light up, and she leans in to kiss me, her lips soft and warm against mine. The kiss deepens, her tongue teasing my lips until I open for her.

When she finally pulls back, her eyes are shining with satisfaction. “Not bad,” she purrs, “But I think you can do better.”

Her hand moves lower, slipping beneath the covers to tease the sensitive skin of my hip. I gasp, my body arching towards her touch.

“Willow…” I moan, my fingers tangling in her hair.

She beams, her hand inching closer to its destination. “Say something else,” she whispers, her voice low and sultry.

I swallow hard, trying to focus. “Tu… tu es belle. Très belle.”

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